My own earliest romantic adventures frequently involved older men.In my twenties, any guy under 40 seemed callow or clueless. In my forties and divorced, I enjoyed the company of younger men.
Now the commotion has died down, and the unlikely couple are still happily married with their own adopted children.
When I flip through his photo album filled with images of an earlier life, though I wonder what we would have been like as a couple then, he's the man I treasure just as he is, now.
I will praise his ability to find humor in everything, to linger over an article in the Sunday Times or Le Monde, to explore our mutual reserve of knowledge, his willingness to challenge my ideas and opinions.
He comes to the entirety of the female package — however voluptuous (and at times, weary) — with gusto when we need it, and equally, with appreciation.
My reverence for older men extends beyond the realm of the physical.